“What’s the address?” Annie hissed.

“Sixty-six Nightingale Lane,” Dennis hissed in return. “It’s just around the corner, two houses in. There’s a big old sycamore tree right by the driveway, where you can have Lady pretend to do her business. I’ll go around back. There are lights on inside. No outside lights, that’s a good thing. No strange dogs barking either, which is also good.

“While I’m checking out the back, you two ladies decide how you want to handle this. Do we blast in? Do we identify ourselves and ring the bell? What? Personally, I’m all for blasting in. They’ll bolt for sure if we give them notice. Make up your mind real quick,” Dennis said, “because I won’t be gone long.”

“The youngster has a point, Myra. What do you think?”

“What I think, Annie, is who is going to be doing the blasting? Does that mean Dennis is going to kick in the back door, which probably leads to the kitchen? The women will undoubtedly run out the front door unless one of us is waiting by the front door. That’s what I would do if I was in their position. Do you have your gun in your purse?”

“I do. Never leave home without it, you know that, Myra.”

“I know. I know. I was just making conversation. I’m just a little bit nervous. And Lady is getting jittery.”

“The only reason Lady is jittery is because she’s picking up on your nervousness. Think, Myra. When was the last time we failed at anything? Never, that’s when. So lighten up and go with the flow here. Damn, it’s humid. My clothes are plastered to my body, and we’ve only been here less than ten minutes. Supposed to rain tonight, too, and all day tomorrow. This whole thing started on a rainy day, remember, Myra, we were getting our nails done when Pearl hit the shop like a tornado?”